The Lonely Bubble

The bubble floats in the night sky, like a fork flying through the air. It longs to run free, like a wild horse; with it's hair flowing freely in the wind.

The bubble begs to be beautiful, and to shine like the moon. It longs to grow and grow like
an unstoppable tumor; becoming something big and important, it wants to be remembered for its greatness.

The bubble flies like an airplane. Like a merry-go-round it goes on and on; reaching for the stars. Then coming to a stop, it suddenly pops and loses all it wished to be. Now it'll never see what it could've become.

**please comment** xxLISSA